Women of Skyrim
by Evilblood
Summary: A group of women team up to unite a broken Skyrim and save Cyrodiil from the Aldmeri Dominion under the guidance of a certain Madgod, who only wants to see order return to Tamriel. Feat. The Hero of Kvatch.
1. Little War

**So this is an idea I've been wanting to get out for a while, enjoy. **

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Filia of War, as was her official name, was just like all the other girls in Whiterun; she wore dresses, loved her father immensely, and even helped out her father by selling small trinkets, but…these trinkets turned into a supply of daggers and short swords by the age of nine. She had made them herself and was quite proud to be the apprentice of Eorlund Gray-Mane, the greatest smith in Skyrim. Many of the children thought him to be scary, but she had been brought up around the large old man. All of this set her apart from the other children, especially the girls, but one thing set her apart altogether that made everyone adore, respect, or hate her; she was Kodlak Whitemane's daughter.

This obviously meant that she knew how to handle a sword. Since she was young Kodlak had started her out on daggers, but they quickly bored the young warrior and she was trying to perfect her swordsmanship. In her head it made sense to understand the sword inside and out, so she made every sword she held from the time Eorlund took her on as an apprentice.

This is where the true Nord's story begins, a beginning a very select few know of. This is what made her the hardened warrior that was capable of the harsh decisions that the leaders of Skyrim couldn't make. And a woman no man could break.

"Filia, wake up. I told you, little one, we must make way early if we are to make it to High Hrothgar on time," the Harbinger of the Companions softly woke his daughter. He would take her to see the Greybeards so she would know about the legend of the Dragonborn. Kodlak had wanted his daughter to grow up as a true Nord should, being taught lessons in her history. He thought he could do something better, he would take her to the 7000 steps beside Ivarstead and she would spend a few weeks with the Greybeards. It would do her some good to be in a calm place full of Nord heritage. He worried greatly about his daughter.

Little Filia did as her father bid, but she wasn't happy about leaving her home to visit boring monks. That also meant leaving her two best friends, Vilkas and Farkas whom she had grown up with since she could remember. They bragged that Eorlund would take them up as apprentices while she was gone and forget all about her. She promptly replied that she hoped they set their heads on fire in the process. Filia Whitemane, or Filia of War as the members of the companions affectionately referred to her as, was a beautiful Nord girl with long fair hair and blue eyes. Her father constantly told her of her warrior mother whom she took after. Her mother died of a sickness shortly after her birth, but the girl's spirit was never struck down by this. She remained a fierce and wild one that lightened the hearts of all in Whiterun. Although her father secretly started to worry about the developing body his daughter was starting to possess.

Kodlak was a Nord warrior and as such he and his daughter would walk to Ivarstead and clime the 7000 steps. He took his pace slow so the girl would not tire herself out too much. He was proud of her, she was a strong one. She carried her own pack even though she knew that it was a long way to High Hrothgar. It took only one day to get to Riverwood and Kodlak let his daughter sleep peacefully in the Inn the resided there. The following morning the made it to the stair's leading straight to the Throat of the World. Most would sigh upon seeing these steps, but Filia smiled and looked at her father and said with her dazzling smile, "Bet I can beat you to the top Papa." His heart swelled with love for his only child and he picked her up and hugged her.  
"Yes, my dear, it's almost certain you can, but you must make the rest of the journey with someone else. I will come to pick you up in three weeks time." Kodlak would have loved nothing more than to spend three weeks telling her fiery daughter of stories of dragons; he had other duties to attend to.

His daughter knew this and nodded. "Alright Papa, but who's to come with me?" she looked up into her father's face with not disappointment, but respect. In Filia's mind, her father was to go on his own awesome adventures that she would one day join.

"The Jarl of Whindhelm. As a young lady and warrior I can assume you'll be respectful?" His loving daughter smiled and affectionately kissed him on the cheek.

"Of course Papa," she answered.

With that he gave his daughter one last hug and an extra cloak and made his way through Skyrim to help her people. Filia did not have to wait long for the Jarl to appear. He was about the age of her father and walked with a swagger in his step. She knew him best as The Bear of Eastmarch, her father had told her stories of his fighting prowess and Filia was overjoyed to be in his company.

As for the Jarl, he took one look at her and smiled, "Filia Whitemane?" he asked in voice that commanded power. Her own father's voice did that, but she already knew every story of her warrior father; this warrior was strange and new. She nodded enthusiastically and picked up her bag, ready for the journey. He laughed, "An honor to meet you."

"You as well," she said hastily. He motioned for her to start the trek up those 7000 stairs. With a determined grin she started up them. He followed beside her easily and Filia felt like he was taller than her father even. After about 50 stairs and her constantly looking at the Jarl to find anything about the man she decided to open her mouth. "Papa says that you're called the Bear of Eastmarch," she blurted out.

The giant warrior-Jarl looked down at the little lass and laughed. "Yes, that is what they call me."

Filia nodded, looking away like she had been given a fact that was truly interesting. Then she looked back up at him. "Well, people call me Filia of War," she tried to sound casual about it. The Jarl smiled at the young girl before him. He knew Kodlak well and could tell this was his famous daughter. She was quite pretty and every bit a Nord daughter of Skyrim, dreaming of being a warrior when she grows up.

"Well, Filia of War," at this she smiled, "I cannot wait to fight with you on the battlefield one day." Filia's heart soared with her dream of fighting bad guys and being just like one of those epic stories that the bards are always singing about. The Jarl didn't know that he had just released the floodgates for Filia's talking.

"Me either Bear of the Eastmarch, my father says that someday I can fight with him too. Won't that be grand? And then I'll really be one of the companions! Eorlund Graymane says that I'd be a wonderful blacksmith, but I want to fight. I practice with the weapons I make, so maybe I'll even make my own armor one day. Oh, by the way, can I call you Bear? Bear of Eastmarch is grand, but a mouthful," she paused momentarily for the Jarl to answer.

He chuckled, "Only if I can call you Filia." She agreed and went on talking a mile per hour. The Jarl was a quiet man so he didn't mind the young Nord lass to talk. He spent little time with his own son since the Greybeards took him in for training and when he did meet with his son, he was quiet and reserved, not at all like children should be.

A thought occurred to Filia, "Why's a big important Jarl going to see the Greybeards?"

"I am going to visit my son, Ulfric," the Jarl replied with a smile that didn't seem at all very happy to Filia.

"How old is he?"

"He'll be 17 summers by now, nearly a man."

Filia nodded in disappointment. She would've preferred someone her own age. Elders didn't like to play games like hide-'n'-seek, or tag. "I'm only 12," Filia told the elder man matter of factly and then continued on with her constant talking.

It took the couple 2 and half days to reach High Hrothgar. Filia was covered in her cloak and her father's but that still didn't take the nip of the snowy tundra away. Filia soon realized it was well worth it when the giant temple set many ideas of adventure and treasures into her head. "That place is huge, Bear, maybe it won't be so boring," she told the Jarl. He just chuckled at the girl and they continued inside.

Once Filia stepped inside she saw four robed men with a normal looking young man who definitely had a resemblance to Bear. They turned to see the duo and Filia really didn't know why she was there. One monk stepped forward and Filia was pleased to see that he did indeed have a grey beard. "Ah, you must be Filia Whitemane." Filia nodded and the monk continued. "I am Master Arngeir, if you come this way I will show you where you'll be staying." Filia nodded and followed the monk, but not without turning and seeing the strange reunion between father and son. They looked at each other while the other monks receded into the temple. Filia thought it strange, she knew without even thinking about it that she would jump with joy after being without her father for so long. This boy was strange.

When Filia awoke Arngeir collected her and showed her through the temple. He also told her the history of the Greybeards and their founder Jurgen Windcaller. Filia only started being interested then. "I don't understand. Why shouldn't he use a power if he has it?"

"The Way of the Voice is to powerful for anyone to control aside from the Gods and the Dragonborn, child," the monk explained. Filia had heard about this Dragonborn and he interested her a great deal. It was all just a legend her father had told her, but he was supposed to come and save them from the dragons that would come back.

"So only the Dragonborn can use the Voice to fight, huh?" Filia shrugged, disappointed. Too bad the Dragonborn didn't exist.

"By the Way of the Voice, yes. Do you understand?" he asked. Filia really didn't, but she said she did. Maybe she'd ask her papa about it, he knew almost everything.

Filia didn't see the three other monks very often through the next few days. It seemed like Arngeir would never run out of boring stories. Anytime he did say something cool he tried to explain to Filia that it wasn't good to fight. Why did her father send her here? He knew she was going to be a warrior someday! These monks seemed to hate fighting, even though Filia knew that they were supposed to be great warriors.

One evening after escaping Arngeir, Filia found Bear sitting with his son. She still hadn't properly met him yet. The two weren't talking or saying anything. Just looking into their plates and eating. Filia decided that they could use a little company. She slowly crept into the room which caused the two to look up at her. Bear smiled and went to introduce the two, "Ah! Filia, this is my son Ulfric. Ulfric, this is Filia of War." Bear gave a subtle wink to the young girl which made her grin. She felt like that title gave her a history of awesome heroic slayings and conquests.

"Hello," Ulfric mumbled while Filia sat down on the bench across from the two. His father cast him a disapproving look and smiled in apology to Filia. She didn't seem to notice and started one of her famous conversations.

"Master Arngeir said that his fellows can't talk because they have voices so powerful that a whisper could kill a man. Guess that must mean he isn't as powerful as them or else he'd kill us all already by now, huh? Are you going to be like Master Arngeir?" Filia asked Ulfric. The only son of the Jarl, Ulfric raised his head to reveal a nasty glare at the younger girl. She just blinked innocently back at him waiting for him to answer. She obviously didn't recognize her insult to the young man.

The Jarl simply laughed at her question and patted his son's shoulder to settle him down. "The monks say Ulfric is learning the voice wonderfully, Filia. He might even be like Jurgen Windcaller," he told the girl with a wink.

She laughed, "That'd be great. He's the only one who actually used the voice to fight. Can you imagine a warrior like that? They'd be unstoppable," Filia said with a nod to confirm the unknown fact. Little did she know that had what been on young Ulfric's mind of late.

"Hmm. Indeed no one would stand a chance, but would it be right?" he asked. Filia didn't know what he meant was it right.

"If you have the gift, why not use it?" Ulfric spoke up to his father. Filia looked to Bear for his reaction.

"Because there is no honor in using the gift of the voice as a weapon," he bit rather harshly at his son. Ulfric turned back to his plate, glaring at it. Filia winced, having thought the same thing as Ulfric voiced. He looked back at her and sighed. "I guess that's my cue to be off," he smiled tiredly at her.

"G'night!" she called to the Jarl and he waved a colossal hand on his way to bed.

Ulfric was fuming. His father didn't want him to join the war against the Thalmor, but how could he stay here when he knew that it was happening. Filia jumped when he pounded his fists into the table then got up and marched from the room. "Wait! Where are you going?" Filia followed him. In anger he pushed the smaller girl out of his way. Now that was a mistake. Filia had been in quite a few brawls with other children along with Farkas and Vilkas. The other companions had told her certain ways to get rid of bullies. Especially Skjor, he said you can use the momentum of a person's who's bigger than you to bring them down. Filia thought that was crazy at the time, but just them she found that she quite understood it.

Filia took hold of Ulfric's arm and with all her might threw him the way she was falling. It resulted with him crashing into a table and her remaining on her feet with her fists in the air ready for more. Before Ulfric could even get up his father and a couple of the monks rushed in at the sound. Filia gulped and realized that throwing a student of the Greybeards didn't count as respectful.

The Jarl looked amazed that the small girl could throw down his son. Ulfric himself was just as shocked. Filia dropped her fists, "Sorry, I'll clean up the mess." She wanted to bring no shame upon her father, since it was he who arranged for her to stay there after all.

Ulfric stood, dusted himself off and gave the girl a bitter look. "Ulfric can help," his father interjected for him. He looked at his father, but he wouldn't budge and quickly turned around and left the room. The monks nodded and withdrew as well. Ulfric decided to now take out his anger with cleaning. He lifted the table by himself and started picking up the plates of food. Filia used a nearby broom to start cleaning up the mess. They cleaned in silence until Filia grew tired of it.

"I'm sorry—"

"You do not need to be sorry," Ulfric quickly quieted her. "I am the one who pushed you," he explained further. She didn't fail to notice that he didn't apologize, but for once in her life she kept quiet.

For the rest of her stay she did not speak to Ulfric, but tried to listen this time when the monk told her stories. She tried to understand just what the Jarl of Windhelm meant when he said the Voice shouldn't be used for fighting. She learned that it was a gift from the gods, specifically Akatosh. A gift from the gods was too pure to use on mortal men. That was why only the Dragonborn could use the shout and even then they would use it for good against things mortal men had no chance against. Filia thought maybe her father did make some sense sending her there after all.


	2. Raven

The young girl couldn't be younger than ten years, Brynjolf noted as a starving young girl with hair that blended so well with the shadows stared at him from over the market place with dead, dark eyes. Her eyes didn't plead for help, but accepted that she was going to die and Brynjolf found himself feeling sorry for the poor lass. He hadn't seen any parents around to care for her and she seemed new in town; shouldn't she have been in the orphanage? At least she'd get one meal a day, but Brynjolf knew the raven-haired girl had been stealing for scraps of food anywhere she could find. She had to of gotten caught then…

"Lass, you looking for a bit of work? I can tell you've never done an honest day of work in your short life," the tall, strong looking man that had been staring back at me approached with this offer. I thought he was a spy for the guards, here to put me in jail and leave me to rot for stealing, but I guess they have bigger things to worry about than a starving thirteen year old. "I can give you gold if you like getting paid, or food, which you look like you need a lot more," he sat himself carefully on a crate I was thinking about looking into for any food. I didn't care if I got caught twice at this point.

"You some kind of pervert?" I croaked through cracked lips. I hadn't spoken in so long, I almost forgot what my voice sounded like and it most certainly didn't sound like that nasty old thing. I wouldn't lay on my back for a living, not that many Nords in Skyrim wanted a scrawny little girl under them.

"No, lass," he chuckled. His voice was deep and rich, so much better than mine. "But I think you could use a bit of help and I know where you would fit in like a glove, but you have to prove yourself first," he said nonchalantly like there weren't a bunch of people surrounding us, buying goods and whatever else they needed.

"What do you need me to do?" I sat up, which took quite a bit of my strength as it was. This would be a difficult feat and I debated lying back down and telling him to go away so I could rot here. It was also why I hadn't broken into that crate this man was sitting on, it would take all my energy and I would have none left to run away and then I'd be rotting in a prison cell with gods know who doing gods know what to me.

So the man made himself a deal, this didn't require running away, thank the gods, but it did require me to stay hidden. Luckily I could do that if he distracted everyone, which he did fulfill. He often ranted and raved in the town square about these items that were supposed to be "magical" or "life changing," but I knew it was a fraud. He was a fraud, just like me. I stole the ring with the one lockpick that he let me borrow. "I won't be breaking it," I boasted. Truth is I didn't know if I could open the locked box with only one lockpick, but I figured I'd leave that to the divines, as well as my life, hanging in the balance. My boney fingers almost slipped, making the lockpick break, but my body instinctively brought itself closer to the box to give me enough leverage to unlock it. I sighed and hurried to sneak the ring in the dark elf's pocket. I pretended to run into him while everyone was crowding around the man, who had eventually introduced himself as Brynjolf, apologized, and then went back to sitting on the crate Brynjolf found me on.

He came right to me after he finished prattling on about some amazing object or another. "Nice work lass, barely noticed it myself," he nudged my arm softly. I flinched involuntarily and scooted away from him. "Here's your payment," he tossed a bag of gold my way. "Consider this a gift." I looked back up from counting the coins slowly. He was holding a steaming bowl of tomato soup. I looked up at him, confused. Why would he help me out? He had to want something from me, but I had nothing.

"What's your deal Brynjolf? Why help me?" I crouched away from him just in case I needed to run. I'd run to the Inn if need be and get myself something to eat.

"Because you could be some use to me, lass. Now eat this and consider it an invitation," he threw the hot bowl into my arms. I accepted willingly, if not cautiously, and I ate it slowly while staring at the tall young man. I was not going to give anyone, let alone him, the satisfaction of watching me gulp this down like every fiber in my being wanted to.

He was giving me an invitation to steal? I had no doubts of who this man was now. "You're in the guild," I stated. It was not a question. His smirk was enough to confirm my suspicions; this man, Brynjolf, was in the Thieves Guild and was giving me a chance for steady pay and steady food.

"A smart lass," Brynjolf complimented me as I stared at my half-eaten soup. "That'll serve you well in the guild. I'm even offering to teach you a thing or two, for free, that's more than most thieves offer." He was serious now, all smiles and nicety gone. He expected an answer and we both knew I had no other choice. This meal might have saved my life, but it wouldn't last long. And he knew that and was going to use it against me.

"Why are you even asking, I'm no fool, we both know I have little choice," I glared up at the man. He gave me a smirk and I felt so dirty and weak, like a skeever. As soon as I saved enough money, I'd hire someone to get me to a bigger city that wasn't filled with filth like me.

"Finish your soup lass, and I'll escort you through the Ratways," he messed up my hair with a dexterous stroke of the hand. I didn't have the energy to move the hair out of my face so I faced downwards as I slurped up the last bit of soup, I didn't bother to eat the rest of it dignified, he already had me promising myself to the slums of Riften.

"I almost forgot, what's your name, lass?" Brynjolf turned to me and asked.

I put down the bowl next to me and stood, ready to get a move on. "Raven."


	3. The Mage Theif

_The next few chapters will continue with backstories of our leading ladies before the actual story get's going~_

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Karolina Springdale hadn't really thought about life anywhere beyond her little town in Valenwood. That is until she found a book about magic. She didn't see any point in telling her parents about it and therefor started to practice while alone in her room. She felt an instant connection to the power that she could hold and quickly devoured her first book. She wanted to learn more, but she was afraid. She had heard of mages, and it was not uncommon with her elven blood, but she had seen none in her own village. What if her parents didn't approve? She decided to keep it a secret and by all accounts seemed to be a normal Bosmer girl. Her father taught her some skills with a bow to hunt and she climbed the tall trees of Valenwood with her friends. She was content with practicing the one spell she knew—a lighting spell—and re-reading her one book for any more clues on how to wield magic. That is until she found out that her loveable neighbor, Codell Nightbrook was selling books and happened to have a nice collection of spells and incantations, "For those with the talent to cast them." It was time to use her natural Bosmer talents.

She started sneaking in Codell's house at night to steal one book every so often. Once she was done reading and practicing with one book, she stole another. She felt bad at first, but with time it grew into habit and she kept an ear open to listen for the old man's alarm each morning at finding another book gone. It seemed like the old man either didn't notice his slimming collection or was glad to have it off his hands. Karolina doubted that she would get caught because she was a regular customer; her parents adored her love for reading and allowed her to buy books with her allowance. She would have bought the spell books if it didn't mean getting caught.

On one particular night Karolina easily slid into Codell's door after picking the lock and took a fresh breath of dusty air. Maybe one day she would have such a vast collection and not have to hide her interest in magic. She was confident that she wouldn't get caught, Codell's bookstore/house almost felt like her second home. She strolled through the books, letting her finger caress the spines of the books as she went until she found _it._ _2920, Rain's Hand, v4, _a book to help her better understand Restoration magic. She hadn't stolen the book that regards to actually learning the spell because she wanted to understand what she was throwing herself into first. As she reached for the book a hand gripped her arm and wrapped another hand around her mouth to stifle her squeal. Had she been caught? Was there a worse intruder trying to harm _her _in place of Codell?

A floating light appeared next to her face and she could see the face of her assaulter—Codell! "I knew someone was stealing from my stock, I just didn't know who," the old man grinned at her. Karolina had never been afraid of him before, but she wasn't lighting up the room. Codell could use magic then? It would make sense considering all of the books he owned on it. "Now considering all you've taken is books about magic, I think I know what you've been up to little girl." Codell let go of the small girl's arm and she immediately threw herself on her knees and started apologizing.

"I'm so sorry Codell! I didn't know what else to do. No one around here talks about magic and I thought if someone found out something bad would happen. Please don't tell anyone!" she pleaded and grasped the old man's robes. With a 'harrumph' the old man led the girl into another room where chairs a table were set up. He motioned for her to sit in one and she obliged wordlessly, with her fate in the hands of her neighbor.

"Girl, you dwell in things you know little about. Lucky for you I have the answer's you seek. I will begin by telling you you've been a smart lass in hiding your talent," the old man began wearily as he sat and lit his signature smoking pipe.

"But why?" she asked curiously, too anxious to be patient.

"Because of the Aldmeri Dominion, girl. You must learn patience if you are to continue in your art of magic," the old man bit back at her. She settled back in her chair, never having seen this side of Codell and glad he implied that she would be able to continue learning magic. "If your parents knew that you were learning magic they would forbid it because the Dominion would take you away to be trained as a battle mage, like they did me. The only reason I'm able to live a normal life now is because I got injured in a battle and need constant potions. Too much of a waste for the Altmer, they said," the old Bosmer explained.

"So you won't tell my parents?" the girl asked hesitantly. He shook his head. "Then…do you think you can teach me what you know?" The old man smiled affectionately at the girl and considered it. It was obvious that the young Karolina had great ambition for the magical arts, but Codell had given up the…darker side of magic in his retirement. The girl could only receive a small amount of knowledge under him.

"I will teach you in the art of healing, since that was what you were looking at tonight. After that I can teach you no more and you will have to seek out learning elsewhere. When that time comes I believe I know where you can find cover from the Aldmeri Dominion, in Skyrim.


End file.
